


Taming the Beast: Jean-Claude

by Savageseraph



Series: The Beast [2]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: Angry Sex, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Community: contrelamontre, F/M, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Pain, Rough Sex, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-16
Updated: 2003-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean-Claude and Richard try to settle their differences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taming the Beast: Jean-Claude

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Taming the Beast: Richard](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/27734) by gotham_syren. 



> A sequel to ["Calling the Beast: Jean-Claude"](http://contrelamontre.livejournal.com/51566.html) from last week's CLM challenge.
> 
> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/contrelamontre/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/contrelamontre/)**contrelamontre**. An improv fic with the following guidelines: The fourth of a series of sensory challenges focusing on the sense of taste. The time limit is 45 minutes.
> 
> This is a companion story to [](http://gotham-syren.livejournal.com/profile)[**gotham_syren**](http://gotham-syren.livejournal.com/)'s [ "Taming the Beast: Richard."](http://contrelamontre.livejournal.com/57915.html) Overlapping scenes from different points of view.

"You said I won't shatter you," Richard growled. "Are you so sure?"

His anger burned like cinnamon, a flash of heat captured between my tongue and the roof of my mouth that warmed my throat and belly when I swallowed. I'd already fed tonight on blood, but my incubus, sated only by lust, still hungered. I laughed, wrapped my legs around him, and pulled him against me until our erections pressed together. Richard shuddered.

I raised a hand to his chest, stroking him from the hollow of his throat to his navel as I spoke. "Look at us, mon loup. Your sun-warmed skin against the pallor of a body that never sees the light day. Do you know what will happen when we come together?"

"No." Richard shook, tried to push himself away from me even as his beast ground his hips into mine. His thoughts tasted raw and primal, they tasted of rage and lust and fear. If Richard did not deny his beast, if he didn't hate it so, there would be only lust. With Richard, things were never easy.

I grabbed two handfuls of hair and pulled him down to me. He kissed me with teeth more pointed than before and bit my lip, drawing blood, and though the bonds that joined us, I tasted myself as he tasted me--cold and sweet as a long-cellared wine, spiced with the dark clove and moss of the wolf I'd fed from earlier in the night. Richard threw back his head, face turned toward the ceiling. The muscles cording his throat were taut. His beast liked the winterdark taste of me on his tongue; I liked watching what it did to him.

Richard began to like it too. I could see it in the way color broke across his cheeks and neck, in the way his fingers twitched as they brushed his nipples. Naturally he fought it, his body rigid with the strain. And he considered me perverse.

His breathing grew more ragged, but still he didn't move. He would fight me, fight his passion for as long as I would allow it. I am patient by nature, but even I have my limits.

I slipped my arms around him and rolled until he was under me on the bed. I laughed then. "Are you a pack leader or a puppy?"

Gold flared in his eyes, and his nails, now sharpened to claws, ripped into my back, cutting across the scars of the lashings I'd endured when I was still human. Unlike the lashes and the imprint of the cross burned into my breast, the damage Richard did would fade and the pain with it. He shoved me off him, onto the floor, and I rolled intending to come up and meet his charge. I underestimated his speed, and his blow caught me in the ribs, drove me into the wall. I drew gasping breaths, as I fell to my knees.

My raised hands did nothing to stop Richard as he pulled me to my feet and shoved me across the room. I fell, half-sprawled over the foot of the bed, and when I tried to rise he was there. His hand caught my wrists, squeezed them together until bone grated against bone. His teeth closed around the back of my neck, and he bit down, not breaking bone or tearing spine. Just letting me know that he could.

I stopped struggling, let myself go more still than any living thing can manage. The rage and lust of Richard's beast brewed a heady elixir, more potent than the tang of blood, and I trembled with the effort of not drawing it into me. I took little sips, because I couldn't help myself, couldn't bear not to have it surrounding me and not taste.

"Is this what you thought would happen, Jean-Claude?" he asked, as he snarled my name. "Is this what you want, _mon cher_?"

His other arm slipped around my neck, forced my head back even as it cut into my air. His face pressed into my hair he smelled it, rubbed against it. His tongue lapped at my neck. I tried to turn my head, though his arm dug more firmly into my throat. What I wanted he hadn't given me. Not yet. When I faced him, my face was cold as wintergreen, untouched by everything that had passed between us.

Richard growled, and I smiled. He would give me what I wanted of him.

His arm moved away from my throat, hand stroking my back to my ass, and before I could brace myself for what I knew he intended, he drove into me in one deep, brutal thrust. I screamed, and he answered with his own broken cry. There was pain enough for both of us, but more for me. As Richard pounded into me, as his lust built, it teased my incubus, and I hung suspended between bliss and agony.

I reached out to my incubus, summoned it, and it rose in me. It coiled in my hips, and rode me with Richard. It matched his rhythm, matched him as it pushed back into each thrust. As its pleasure drowned my pain, I touched the marks that bound Richard and I together, and they flared strong enough to smash through the shields we raised and fortified against each other. I was in Richard's skin and my own, taking and being taken. And in that moment everything was suddenly tighter, hotter, harder, deeper than before. The feeling filled me, along with the heat of Richard's seed, and only centuries of practice kept me from spending as well.

Richard collapsed against my back, shuddering and spent. The blood from my back was slick between us. He did not resist as I turned. Cradling him in my arms, I licked him clean, cock and chest. My blood tasted weak, like water, and I raised bloody fingers to his lips so that I could taste myself through him. He moaned but opened his mouth to suck on my fingers. When I kissed my way up his chest to his throat, he arched his neck, denying me nothing.

I let my lips and tongue play over his pounding vein as long as I could bear to hold back, savoring the moment in case this was the only time. When Richard whined, I drove into him. His whole body arced in my arms, and I pressed myself against him, spending as the first rush of blood hit my tongue.

I released Richard's beast an instant before I pulled my fangs out of his throat. His brown eyes were bright and moist. I held him to me and stroked his damp hair until his body relaxed in my arms.

As Richard's breathing deepened, grew more regular, I waited for the calm that came when bloodlust and incubus were both sated, but it seemed as distant and alien as the sun. Richard stirred, and his arms tightened around me. He murmured a name, and it was not Anita's. It was mine.

I wondered if Richard would remember calling out to me from his dreams in the morning. I wondered if I wanted him to.


End file.
